Fragile as the Wings of a Butterfly
by KuroiWinter
Summary: To him she was a butterfly, with shadowy gossamer wings. And, although he never said 'I love you', she knew what they meant to each other. So why did that have to happen? Sometimes the most painful thing of all, is being forgotten . . . or to forget
1. Prologue: All I Hold in my Hands

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters or setting that Tite Kubo created.

Setting: This story is slightly AU. There are shinigami and Hollows, although they're really only mentioned briefly, and the whole thing is futuristic . . . maybe.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoy reading this story! And, since I have nothing else to say, I'll be quiet and let you read . . .

* * *

><p><em>Fragile as the Wings of a Butterfly<br>__~ Nothing is Eternal_

_Prologue: All I Hold in my Hands_

When he met her, his whole world was changed forever. She showed him things he never could have even dreamed about, both the good, and the bad as well. They formed a bond, the type that can never be broken, no matter how hard the times they go through become. They created dreams, imagined futures that were all different . . . except for one thing.

In every one of their fanciful musings . . . they were always together. Side by side, whether it was fighting, dancing, laughing, or even arguing. And in their dreams, they couldn't see what lay ahead on fate's path, but they could always see the other beside them, always feel the other's hand in their own.

_So why did this have to happen?_

Always and forever, that was the silent promise. She was technically a spirit, a shinigami tasked with handling the Hollows, and sending the lingering souls of the dead to the Soul Society. He was a human, a substitute shinigami, partly even one of the Hollows, and he always fought to protect. But, despite any difference they had, and there were quite a few, they understood each other perfectly.

_So why, after everything they'd been through, did that have to happen?_

The number of injuries, the blood spilling from open wounds, the pain only half hidden in dull eyes, everything was bearable when they were together. The agony eased just by the other's presence. Protect . . . fight . . . the adventures they'd shared, along with their other friends, were things one might expect to find in a fantasy storybook. She was there to keep everyone optimistic, and in line. He was there to shield his friends as best he could.

_But in the end . . . he couldn't do a thing to help her, could he?_

Sometimes the things that shatter your world are the ones you never expected would even come anywhere near to hurting you. The tragedies you didn't even think were possible, considering who and what you were. Sometimes a deadly sharp katana isn't the way to protect the ones you love. Sometimes there is no way to save the one person who holds your heart. Sometimes . . . although it hurts and you cry hopelessly . . . the only thing you can do, is hold that person tightly. Even as they fade away before you, even as your dreams come crashing down, shattering into pieces . . . even as your heart breaks, all you can do is watch.

_When you look now, what is it that you see?_

What he holds in his hands, careful as if it might break into a thousand pieces . . . what he always wants to hold forever . . . she is a butterfly. Not the small, colourful creatures that drift along wind, perching upon blooming flowers . . . and not the black jigokucho, the hell butterflies, either. She is the embodiment of easy grace, elegance, beauty . . . petite, dark haired, and pale . . . a different kind of butterfly. One which has escaped its cage and flown to freedom upon fragile gossamer wings.

_Never touch the wings of a butterfly . . ._

So she sits listlessly, staring from the window into a rain filled sky, broken wings spread behind her, fine and shadowy black. Her eternity is coming to an end, her wings are disintegrating, her soul is fading . . .

_All he holds in his hands . . . what will be left when she is gone?_

Broken butterfly wings . . . an ended forever . . . fragile memories of the past. Something no one wants to be given. But there is nothing to be done, because there are no words to express the aching loss. She no longer sits by her window, her short while longer is over, but to him, she had already gone, already flown away on her torn wings . . . flown away to another world, somewhere where he cannot follow her.

Like smoke drifting away on the wind, like crystal glass shattering, like grey clouds releasing the rain . . . there is an end to eternity, and the river of pain that remains . . . it will wash away everything that he held in his hands, and grasp hungrily at the sorrow in his heart.

Sometimes there is no reason in this world, and there is nothing that can be done but to hold tight whatever is left, clutch those feelings to your chest, and continue on fate's path . . .


	2. Chapter 1: When I Look at You

_Chapter 1: When I Look at You_

'I'm sorry,'

The two words floated dimly into Ichigo's mind, barely being processed due to the whirl of confusion he was experiencing. This couldn't be happening . . .could it? Was it really possible? How come he hadn't noticed anything? Why hadn't he done anything? Was there anything he could have done? No, this was something he'd heard about, watched at least one movie about . . . read about in his father's medical books. Something he'd never believed could remotely affect him, or anyone around him.

'Mr Kurosaki?' the doctor, a thin and clinical looking man in a formal suit and white coat, adjusted his square framed glasses and tried not to show any signs of emotion. It was part of his job, this watching of people as they had their dreams taken away from them, and how they almost refused to believe the breaking truth. Because it was rarely just the person sitting on the chair across the desk who'd be affected, normally it was a whole group of people, who'd suffer as they watched someone so dear to them, fade away. If they'd heard of it before, they never seemed to think it would happen to them, or someone they knew. Especially not at this age . . . it really was a heartbreaking tragedy.

'What?' silently reprimanding himself on reflex for saying something so impolite, the orange haired man sat back in his chair slightly, still reeling from the shock. It had started as just a check-up for a cut that might have needed stitches, and now . . . this? Why couldn't they have just gotten Inoue to reject the wound, maybe then all of this could have been avoided.

_But __if __you __had, __you__'__d __never __have __known __and __then __it __might __really __have __been __too __late_, the thought was a sobering one, but Ichigo wasn't sure whether or not he'd rather have gone on in blissful ignorance of such a terrible fact.

Listening to the young man's answer, the doctor almost smiled. Not the type of smile you show when you're happy or excited, but a pitiful, understanding one . . . one that would show how much this part of his work made him hurt. He had, after all, lost someone this way as well. There was no cure, no way to reverse the damage . . . it was a torturous, cruel thing that ripped away at the happiness and wellbeing of everyone around the single affected person.

'Did you notice any of the signs I mentioned earlier?' bringing the orange haired man's attention back to earth, the doctor spoke shortly.

Ichigo stared for a moment longer, before speaking, 'A while ago . . . but then I thought it was stress,' he was feeling so guilty, 'Just some minor things. Yesterday . . . drawings,' he didn't seem to realise he wasn't exactly speaking properly. The memory of how the normally detailed pictures had looked slightly shaky came back to his mind. And what had he done when she showed them to him? Insulted her as usual and thrown her sketch book out the window.

'Would you like me to repeat what I said?' the only thing the doctor could do was explain everything, and then offer possible options.

'N-no . . . thank you,' forcing himself to remember his manners, Ichigo stood up, a little unsteadily, 'Can we go now?' he tried and failed not to sound just a little pleading.

'Certainly,' picking up the papers from his desk, the man in the white medical coat led the way from the room, 'Now, you must understand that this will eventually place a heavy burden on your life, and that of your relatives and friends,' he extended his hand, showing the brochure he held, the one advertising a home for people who required full time care, 'Perhaps you should look into one of these places,'

Ichigo stared at the proffered pamphlet in a mixture of shock, horror, and disgust. Taking it with as much false gratefulness as he could maintain, he said, 'No, I don't think so, but thank you,'

This happened almost every time too. The doctor barely refrained from giving that pitiful smile again. They always thought they could manage at the beginning, when things still seemed unrealistic, like a nightmare. But the reality would catch up to them, and then the majority would hand responsibility over, just to regain their own lives, their own freedom. It was a hard thing to manage, after all, and it didn't just affect lifestyle, but their own mental health as well. Sometimes, they had to accept that what they could provide might not be enough, and then things would become easier.

'Well, I'll say goodbye, for now. Please contact the hospital again if you have any other questions, or concerns,' as he handed over the documents to the secretary, the doctor nodded to the blank faced young man before walking back towards his office. They would have to deal with everything themselves now, there was nothing more he could do. Not until the next time Kurosaki Ichigo and his partner dropped by at Karakura General Hospital.

* * *

><p>Ichigo approached Rukia as she sat in the waiting room, peering out the windows and down onto the street, so far below, 'Kuchiki, what are you doing?'<p>

Rukia turned around, smiling and with hidden laughter sparkling in her deep violet eyes, 'Took you a while, _Kurosaki_,' she raised her arm, the one wrapped in a white bandage, 'So long that I've already fixed this up with kido,' she sounded quite proud of herself.

'Why are you still wearing a bandage then?' putting aside his concern for just a moment, Ichigo smiled wryly, ruffling her raven black hair, 'We came all the way to the hospital just because you wanted to get that fixed up by _human __doctors_. I mean really, you've got to have a reason, so why?'

'Just because,' smiling in a more secretive way now, one that suggested she didn't have a reason apart from annoying him, Rukia pulled on his hand, half dragging him towards the elevators, 'Anyway, we've got to get home, Inoue said she was coming over soon so we should make sure everything's tidy,'

'That's right,' letting himself be pulled along, Ichigo tried to stay focused and hide his true feelings, 'Hey, Rukia-,'

'What?' she paused, one hand extended to press the elevator button, 'Is something wrong?'

'N-nothing,' there was something stuck in his throat, and the lie was making a foul taste in his mouth, 'Let's just get out of here,'

Rukia knew he'd been away with the doctor for longer than what would have been necessary if they were just discussing a cut, 'If something's wrong, you'll tell me . . . won't you Ichigo,' she squeezed his hand to emphasize her point. Whether she was threatening or comforting him though, was unclear.

'Of course,' he was so guilty, why couldn't he just tell her . . . why couldn't he just let her know how fate had twisted their lives. Ever since she'd left the Gotei 13 to work as a freelance shinigami alongside him, they'd been together. Ukitake had been sad, Byakuya had declined to comment, although Ichigo assumed that was because he was sad too, and almost everyone who knew Rukia had decided that they'd miss her. Still, whenever a team came to the Human World from the Soul Society on some kind of mission, they'd end up getting involved with the goings on. It was inevitable, really.

So why couldn't he just tell her the truth?

'You'd better,' as she stepped into the elevator, Rukia stumbled slightly, an action which was a far cry from her usual easy grace, 'Oops,'

'Are you alright?' ignoring how his arm hurt from being jerked on so suddenly, Ichigo put his hands on Rukia's shoulders, barely refraining from shaking her. He didn't even notice when the elevator doors slid open.

'Hey, let go of me!' the petite young woman pulled away, snapping at him, while her indigo eyes flashed dangerously, 'I'm fine, alright!'

'Sorry,' stepping out of the elevator after her, Ichigo silently followed as they made their way to where his car was parked, 'Let's just go home,'

* * *

><p><em>When I look at your smiling face,<br>__Why can't I tell you the truth?  
><em>_What have we done to make fate,  
><em>_Want to destroy all of our happiness?_

_How can I say what I know,  
><em>_Will hurt you?  
><em>_Just like,  
><em>_It's hurting me now._


	3. Chapter 2: Your Unsolvable Mystery

_Chapter 2: Your Unsolvable Mystery_

'Ichigo,' Rukia walked through the door and into the apartment they shared, somewhere in the middle of Karakura Town. There was something warning in her tone that man the orange haired man tense slightly. So what if they were older, her punches hadn't gotten any weaker, on the contrary, she was probably twice as strong as she'd been when he was still a teenager.

'Yes?' his own tone was reluctant, as if he didn't want to hear whatever she had to say, and he didn't turn from flicking through the documents on his desk.

There was the sound of half stomped footsteps, and then Rukia appeared behind him. He did turn then, trying not to look guilty, and trying not to remember the incident at the hospital, a week earlier. Indigo eyes glittering with fury, the petite woman didn't hesitate before she slapped her five year partner.

'Wha-!' cheek throbbing from the unexpected assault, Ichigo stood up, just to ensure that his head wasn't going to take any more damage. Rukia might have gotten stronger, but she certainly hadn't gotten that much taller.

'You idiot!' she punched him this time, clearly worked up but looking a bit physically unstable, 'Why didn't you say any-anything?' she seemed to be having trouble speaking, although she was shouting. It was almost like she was thinking hard before every word left her mouth.

'About what?' memories of what the doctor had said to him flew through Ichigo's head. He noted that her words weren't as fluent as usual, and that her hands, as she tried to undo the top button on her cardigan, having clearly become hot and bothered due to her angry outburst, were fumbling.

'You know,' giving up, she tore the thin jacket from her shoulders, dumping the ribbed fabric at her feet, 'I went there Ichigo, I know now. And I know that you know so why didn't you say anything?'

'Went where?' despite the worry he felt, Ichigo couldn't help but say it, 'Rukia-,'

'To the . . . the,' she seemed to run out of steam, her petite shoulders slumping, 'The . . . big building with lots of windows,'

Ichigo felt a familiar lump form in his throat, and his voice came out strangled, 'The hospital?'

Rukia nodded, as if she had had no trouble thinking of the word, 'The hospital. So you better come clean, starting with everything you know,'

Although it was hurting him, Ichigo nodded, finally able to tell her everything, now that she practically knew as well, 'When we went that time to get your wound sewn up, they noticed some things that I guess they're trained to, and then they did some tests,' he closed his eyes, 'The doctor said you have early-onset Alzheimer's disease, something quite rare,' his hand, hanging by his side, clenched, 'You know everything, so why are you making me say this?'

'Shut up,' turning, the black haired young woman marched off, entering her study and slamming the door violently.

Ichigo was left standing there, at the edge of the room, staring after her in shock and sorrow. He didn't understand how a shinigami could get such a disease, and he wondered if he should try to get Inoue to reject it with her powers. Things were always so complicated in his life, and, in matters concerning the health and safety of Rukia, he could only ever wish for simple problems that could be fixed in moments.

_Do you understand what's going to happen to her?_

The doctor's words resonated in his head, giving him a headache. Speaking aloud because no one was around to hear, and Rukia would probably just ignore him, he answered the question, 'I know. This disease kills, doesn't it? It takes everything from someone, and then it kills them,'

_In __most __cases, __it__'__s __not __Alzheimer__'__s __that __kills __them_.

'But in this case it will be,' somehow, he could feel it in his soul, a hard, dark truth that he'd been unable to believe until Rukia arrived to confront him, 'And, although you suggested handing her over to some caring place, I can't do that. She's everything to me, and even when she can't remember who I am, I will keep watching over her,'

* * *

><p>'Rukia! What the hell are you doing?' Ichigo pushed her back, slashing out with Zangetsu and easily cleaving the weak Hollow in half, cutting its mask and 'cleansing' it. He'd only noticed that her presence was no longer in the apartment just a few minutes before he found her, bleeding and still trying to fight the Hollow, although she was clearly unable to utilise her fine motor skills properly.<p>

'My job!' she was angry, but it was a different anger to before. Ichigo wasn't even sure she could recall their argument. The fact that she'd left to try and fight a Hollow though, proved something the doctor had told him.

_Implicit memory, that is, things such as how to use a knife and fork, won't be affected as much as new facts or memories._

Of course Rukia would still remember how to fight Hollows, it was only natural considering the amount of time she'd spent doing such things in her life as a shinigami. But it was obvious she wasn't properly up to handling the task as well as she thought. There was something really tragic about that, because that was what she'd always trained to do, and he knew she took pride in doing it, even now when she wasn't part of the Gotei 13 anymore.

'Hey, I'm going to take you home now and then we'll call Inoue,' he knelt before her and gently lifted her up, surprised when she didn't fight at all, 'Is that alright?'

'Inoue?' there was a moment of blankness before understanding seemed to pass across her features, 'Orihime?'

'That's right,' he couldn't comprehend what was going on properly. Things shouldn't be progressing this fast, she shouldn't be losing memories of Inoue yet. After all, she'd known the auburn haired woman for years now, it wasn't like she'd just met her the other day.

'Are we going to go to that place soon?' Rukia seemed content just to lean into Ichigo's chest and let herself be carried along through the air.

'That place?' once again, Ichigo couldn't ignore the twinges in his chest as she failed, yet again, to recall the name of somewhere she'd been before, 'Which one?'

'The big one,' Rukia's brow furrowed and her delicate hand clenched on part of Ichigo's shihakusho, 'With lots of windows,' for a moment, Ichigo thought she meant the hospital, but then she continued, 'And desks,'

'Karakura High School?' he was surprised so much that he almost missed his step as he briefly alighted on someone's rooftop, 'Why would we be going there?'

'Because you can't skip out on getting an education just because of me,' she still seemed unconcerned, as if she'd forgotten about even having a disease and was just going about normal life, 'You've got to get a good job like . . . that man,'

'We don't go to school anymore, we finished years ago,' Ichigo tried to sound comforting, but his voice was strangled, 'And who's this man you're talking about?'

'I'm tired, Kaien,' just after she spoke, Rukia was fast asleep, and Ichigo was left in a silent world where everywhere he looked, pain mocked him, and sadness laughed wildly in his face.

* * *

><p><em>You lose yourself,<br>__In a mystery which I cannot solve,  
><em>_And then under a mask of normalcy,  
><em>_We go on with our lives_

_Do you truly understand,  
><em>_What has happened?  
><em>_And how it will affect everything?  
><em>_Or have you already forgotten?_


	4. Chapter 3: I Don't Sit Alone Tonight

_Chapter 3: I Don't Sit Alone Tonight_

'Kurosaki,' Inoue had never grown out of that habit, 'I'm sorry, I didn't know that had happened to Kuchiki,' staring at the sleeping girl beneath her rejecting sphere, the young woman blinked back tears, 'And I'm not sure if that sort of thing can be rejected,'

It was true, she didn't know if she'd damage Rukia's mind, or completely wipe her memory. The consequences if she got something wrong would be disastrous. And that was another reason she didn't want to try, because if she hurt Kurosaki, she'd never forgive herself.

'No, I should be sorry, I shouldn't have even asked,' Ichigo, sitting across the table from his guest, glanced at Rukia, who was laid out carefully on the lounge, 'It's just . . . not at all like it was in my dad's medical books. I mean, a person is supposed to live on for years after being diagnosed. But Rukia . . . it seems she's losing everything so fast,'

He wasn't sure if it was because she was technically dead, the length of time she'd lived as a shinigami, or if there was just something else in her circumstances that made her more susceptible to the effects of the disease. What he _did _know, was that she'd called him by the name of the man who used to be the Lieutenant of her Division, before he was killed. It was painful, and he could only hope that, when she woke up, she'd know who he was.

'If there's anything I can do,' Orihime trailed off. She wanted to help, and she knew she'd do anything for these two people, two of her closest friends. Even if it meant dressing Rukia, or helping with any of the everyday chores around the house . . . she was prepared to put her own life on hold for that young lady asleep on the lounge.

'I don't know,' both of them knew he wasn't coping well, undignified tears prickling his eyes and a terribly familiar lump forming in his throat, 'But thank you, Inoue,'

'You're welcome, Kurosaki,' she smiled in what she hoped was a comforting way, but in the circumstances, it was more like a false reassurance that everything would be alright. But it wouldn't be, because Kuchiki was fading away before the eyes of the man she loved, the eyes of the man who loved her . . . and now one of her friends as well.

The doorbell rang suddenly, making both Ichigo and Orihime jump out of their seats, and then two familiar people walked into the room. Or maybe it would be three of her friends.

'Uryū! Chad?' the orange haired man spoke seconds before Orihime ran over to hug both of the newcomers, much to their surprise, 'What are you doing here? And how did you get in?'

'Don't shout, it looks like Kuchiki's asleep,' Uryū spoke in a typically condescending way, pushing up his glasses, 'And your door was open, so you shouldn't be so shocked,'

'We heard about Kuchiki,' Chad spoke in the short silence that followed Ishida's words, after Ichigo had returned from making sure his two extra guests had closed the door this time. Both he and the bespectacled young man had heard from Inoue as soon as the woman had found out herself, and then they'd met at the train station. Uryū had come back from Tokyo, having been there for some sort of fashion show, and Chad had collected him on his way to Kurosaki's.

'Did you,' it wasn't a question, and Ichigo slowly sank back into his chair, the worry once again overloading his mind, 'I don't know what to say,'

'Hellooooo~,'

Seconds after the suspiciously familiar voice sounded, Urahara Kisuke waltzed into the room. Ichigo stared, wondering just why so many people were congregating in his house, and then he leapt up again, 'What are you doing here?'  
>The infuriating shopkeeper always seemed to pop up at unexpected times to say or do something that was somehow important. They never knew how he always seemed to know <em>everything. <em>Or, at least, mostly everything.

'I came to deliver this,' extending his hand, while waving his customary fan before his face, Urahara flicked a glance at Rukia, 'For her,'

'What is it?' looking at what seemed to be a plain silver bracelet, Ichigo blinked in confusion.

'Kuchiki cannot be allowed to turn into a shinigami anymore,' Urahara spoke cheerfully, but everyone could sense that he was actually just as sad as they were, 'So that will prevent her from removing her gigai,'

'Is this really necessary?' despite knowing it was, Ichigo couldn't help but feel terrible. Being a shinigami . . . it was just what Rukia _was_. She'd done so much as one of the soul reapers, and to have that taken away . . . there was a saying that said sometimes you've got to be cruel to be kind. But what if they ended up taking everything from her, and she then lived for nothing?

'Kurosaki,' knowing just what the orange haired man was thinking, Urahara tilted his head, hiding his eyes in the deep shadow of his green and white hat, 'If Kuchiki is killed by a Hollow, how will you feel?' not letting anyone reply, he continued, 'I've notified the Soul Society already. See you,' and with that, the shopkeeper vanished, as if into thin air, and not out the window, leaving everyone in a strained silence.

* * *

><p>Later, Ichigo sat at the end of the lounge Rukia was still sleeping on, and he slid the bracelet onto her wrist. He could hear Inoue, Chad and Uryū's quiet breathing as the three slept, each having set up a futon somewhere in the apartment. He'd asked if they'd wanted to leave, but Inoue had said she wanted to stay to make sure Rukia healed up okay, Chad hadn't said anything, and Uryū had said he'd put up with him and stay. Ichigo suspected that what the Quincy really meant was that, since he'd just come back from Tokyo, he didn't have anywhere of his own to stay, so it was easier just to sleep where he was.<p>

'What's going on?' Rukia sat up suddenly, startling Ichigo, and she looked about in mild confusion, ignoring the rejection sphere as it slowly vanished from around her, 'Did that woman arrive?'

'Inoue came, that's right. She healed your wounds,' Ichigo forced a smile onto his face.

'I want water,' swinging her legs off the lounge, Rukia stood up, wobbling a little, and then she walked off into the kitchen without a second thought.

Just a minute later, there was a crashing sound and Ichigo leapt up, racing towards the other room, looking about for the petite young woman, 'Rukia? Are you alright?'

At the sound of all the noise, the others came running too, having only been sleeping lightly due to the emotions they were experiencing, 'What's going on?'

As the four of them burst into the kitchen, their eyes fell on Rukia as she clutched bleeding hands to her chest, the crimson of her blood staining the white blouse she was wearing. Beneath her, mingled with the red, was a mess of shattered glass.

'You dropped a cup?' Ichigo was relieved, although seeing her bleeding hurt him, 'It's alright,'

Rukia stared at the three people standing behind the one she recognised, and her face shuttered, 'Who are you?'

Orihime, Uryū, and Chad all knew that she mightn't recognise them, and they thought they'd prepared themselves for the worst type of pain, the pain of being forgotten, but when she spoke, and glared at them coldly, it was all they could do not to just turn and leave. Orihime could feel tears in her eyes, and she fought them in a losing battle, knowing that she was too old to cry at every sad thing. But something like this . . . it wasn't just 'every', it was one of the hardest things she could imagine and the pain tore at her compassionate heart.

'Kuchiki-,' she began to speak, almost begging her friend to remember her.

'Don't talk, tell me you're names,' shifting her glare to Ichigo, Rukia snapped, 'Why did you let strangers into the house? Just because you can deal with most riff raff, doesn't mean you need to play nice with them. Is this just some sort of haphazard arrangement?'

'Riff raff? _Haphazard_?' the second part was especially wounding for the Quincy, who disliked the word with a vengeance, 'Oh well, it was to be expected,' he muttered the second part, all too aware that Rukia could hear him.

Ichigo was silent for a moment, trying to deal with everything, and then he said, 'Rukia, they're our friends, from school,' pointing, although he knew it was rude, he said, 'Inoue Orihime, Ishida Uryū, Yasutora Chad,'

There was only blankness of Rukia's face, and then she turned abruptly, washed the blood from her hands, and then stalked from the room, irritability radiating from her small frame. There was no intentional reason for her cold behaviour, it was just a random outburst that left others stunned, and herself still unaware of everything.

* * *

><p><em>Tonight with everyone,<br>__I don't sit alone.  
><em>_But I still worry,  
><em>_And I still feel the pain._

_You fade before my very eyes,  
><em>_And I can see,  
><em>_Fragments of,  
><em>_Your butterfly wings._


	5. Chapter 4: Always and Goodbye

_Chapter 4: Always and Goodbye_

'A month has passed since we first went to the hospital, do you remember that?' sitting with Rukia at the table, Ichigo smiled at her absent minded face, 'Rukia?'

Orihime, Uryū and Chad were all out grocery shopping, and Ichigo was so grateful to them. He hadn't expected them to stay, and he hadn't expected all of them to continue supporting Rukia, even as more and more of her mind was eaten away. The three of them were such kind people, really, although Uryū couldn't help his sharp remarks occasionally.

'I want to go for a walk,' she always wanted to get out of the house and wander around the streets of Karakura Town. They'd get back from hours of aimless walking, and then she'd ask to go again. It was something none of them could bring themselves to dispute.

'Later, it's raining,' Ichigo wasn't in the best of moods, especially because of the droplets pounding down outside. He could only hope the others had gotten shelter somewhere, because they hadn't taken an umbrella.

Rukia had become completely dependent on all of them, but she still wasn't the typical Alzheimer's patient. By now, the average affected person wouldn't be hardly be able to talk at all, and they wouldn't have as much mobility as Rukia did. It was just as confusing as how fast her fall from normalcy had been, but even if she could still talk and move about, she wasn't the Rukia he knew.

The petite woman, who'd gone over to the window and was staring out vacantly, turned suddenly, seeming so much younger than she was. She didn't say anything, but she took the paper from the lounge and began to draw. Where originally, she'd been detailed and precise, her works now were like rough sketches of whatever she was trying to portray. It was just another reminder of how different everything was. Just another blow to Ichigo's heart . . .

'What are you drawing?' the orange haired man walked over, peering at the sketchbook. Whatever the image was, it certainly wasn't something he could decipher, 'Are you going to tell me?'

In the weeks before the present, they'd tried to keep her stimulated, both physically and mentally. Orihime had gone walking with her, Uryū had done board games or simple mind games, and Chad had played his guitar. They'd all worked as hard as possible, and, to be honest, they were all surprised that she'd made it this far while still retaining what she had.

'You,' smiling cheerfully, in a way she never had when she was 'normal', Rukia childishly lifted up the book, 'This man, I love him,'

It seemed so strange, that even when she couldn't recall their friends, even when she couldn't remember his name, she could still feel that connection. But although it was beautiful in its own sorrowful way, Ichigo found that just as hard as everything else. To anyone else, he was a fool to forget about his own life to take care of someone until the day they died, to not place her in some advanced full time care centre . . . but really, he was one of the most compassionate, dedicated people that Rukia could possibly have to look after her.

'That's nice to know,' he didn't even know if she knew that the person she was trying to draw lived with her. It was impossible to tell, and they couldn't ask her.

Rukia was silent once again, and so Ichigo decided she must be finished talking, having gone into her own, private little world once more. He straightened and moved over to the door, intents on going and getting some food. There wasn't much, the reason the others were out shopping in the first place, but for sure he'd find something edible. Although Inoue's cooked meals, sealing in containers and placed in the freezer for her own personal use, were to be avoided at all costs.

There was a soft noise behind him, and then Rukia spoke once more, 'Kurosaki Ichigo,' he spun around, shocked into silence, and then he watched as the raven haired young woman gazed at him calmly, a faint smile playing at her lips, 'I love _you_,'

And just like that, before he could reply, her composed expression slid away into her usual mask of cheerful eagerness, only slightly tinged by apathy, and once again, Kuchiki Rukia was lost to the world.

* * *

><p>Ichigo sat bolt upright, ignoring the way his head span, and he turned to check the time. It was five thirty, too early in his opinion, but he wasn't about to go to sleep again. Why had he dreamt of that incident again? It had been Rukia's only break from her prison of a fading mind and body, and it had only been yesterday, so why would he think that now?<p>

Getting up slowly, the orange haired man realised he couldn't sense Rukia's reiatsu anywhere in the apartment. His first thought in response to that discovery was that she must have asked one of the others to take her out for a walk, despite the early hour. But then, after just a second more, he realised that he could still sense all three of his friends' presences in the other rooms.

Feeling decidedly worried, Ichigo moved from the room and into the living space, casting his warm brown gaze around, searching for what he knew wasn't there.

All he could see that was remotely out of place, was an icy white envelope placed on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

Walking forwards with immense trepidation, Ichigo carefully picked the envelope up. He opened it with a letter opener, and then sat down on the lounge, unsure whether or not he wanted to read the contents of the unmarked envelope.

Sighing deeply, in a way that was neither relieved, or exasperated, Ichigo pulled out the folded paper, and then he smoothed it out, ready to read what he could already sense in his heart.

_Kurosaki Ichigo,_

_Firstly, I want to say thank you. For everything you've done and everything I know you'll do. And also, if anyone else gets involved, I want to thank them too. For giving up their time, and putting their lives on hold, there's nothing else to say but to tell them that I appreciate everything dearly. For as long as I can, I will treasure the memories we share together._

_I wrote this letter the day we returned from the hospital that first time. You probably thought I didn't know until I came and argued with you, but I did, and I just didn't want to hurt you more.  
><em>_So while my mind still remembers the characters, and my hands are still able to perform the strokes, I'll write this letter to you. Just as a way to thank you for making me smile when almost nobody else could, and for making me laugh, when the whole world seemed grey._

_If you read this letter, then I'll be gone from your life. Don't feel guilty, it's not your fault at all. This is my decision, one I'm making, no, one I've already made. I don't want to burden you with myself, even when my mind is completely gone and only the shell of my body remains. It's an interesting thought really, I wonder if my gigai would continue to function once my mind was gone, but the remains of my soul still lingered within it._

_You probably think I'm cruel. That I'm not thinking straight. But as you read this, I'll probably be arriving in a new home, where the people have dedicated their lives to helping patients like me. I know you think you can always look after me, but I don't want you to give up everything like that. You should have a proper future. And, after all, I've lived as a shinigami for so long. A lot longer than I lived as a human, so I've had a good life. I have no regrets, apart from the fact that this disease will cause me to forget the people who I hold the closest to my heart._

_Don't try to look for me. Don't try to hold yourself in the past. For just a while longer until the end of my eternity, I'm happy in the knowledge that I've set you free. So go. Go forwards into the future. Meet more people, do something with your life, fall in love again.  
><em>_Anything is alright, trust me. Anything except you being a fool and trying to go against the flow of time, which I suspect you might, and I strongly advise against it. _

_Ichigo, like you used to when you were acting all depressed and hopeless, listen to what I'm saying here, and do something about the gloomy look on your face. Smile, because you've still got life ahead of you, and you have your friends by your side._

_And, although you never told me that you loved me, never said 'I love you', I know you do. So remember that I love you, always and goodbye._

_Kuchiki Rukia_


	6. Chapter 5: This Delicate Happiness

_Chapter 5: This Delicate Happiness_

Orihime woke late, at nine, or so her phone said. Glancing about the still slightly unfamiliar space that was Rukia's study, the auburn haired woman stood up, straightened out her clothes, which she'd fallen asleep wearing, and left the room, humming softly to herself. She quickly pulled both Chad, who'd been in Ichigo's study, and Uryū, who'd been in the spare room, into consciousness, and then they all set out to find Kurosaki himself.

'I can't sense him anywhere, and he's no good at hiding his reiatsu,' Uryū frowned, being the most proficient at detecting the spiritual pressures of the people around him, 'So where could he have gone?'

'And where's Kuchiki? Did they go for a walk together?' Orihime smiled a little hesitantly, always optimistic and hoping for the best, 'I wonder-,'

'Look,' Uryū uncharacteristically cut the woman off, gesturing at the lounge chair, where a discarded envelope lay, 'What's that?'

'It's an envelope,' just in case no one had picked that up, Chad thought he'd be the one to state the obvious, 'Was Ichigo reading a letter? I wouldn't have thought Kuchiki could read anymore,'

'I think he was,' Uryū sounded thoughtful, a deep, understanding note in his voice, 'I think that was Kuchiki's farewell note,'

'Huh? What?' Orihime was shocked, and her hands clenched around the fabric of her jacket, 'Is Kuchiki alright? Where's Kurosaki? Don't tell me Rukia's dea-,'

'She's a shinigami, of course she's dead,' Uryū once again cut her off, pushing up his glasses, 'But no, I don't think she's dead in the way you mean. I think she's gone though, perhaps to a care home. Knowing Kuchiki, she probably didn't want to burden anyone anymore,'

The other two knew that, apart from being a top fashion designer, Ishida Uryū was also an incredibly intelligent person, having consistently ranked at the top of the class while they were in school. Repeatedly he'd show his mental strength by figuring things out that they mightn't even have considered.

'So where's Kurosaki?' Orihime couldn't get her mind around everything at once, especially the part about Rukia, so she focused on one thing at a time, 'If he read that, surely he wouldn't try and find her. This is strangely like that time Kuchiki was arrested by the Soul Society and she told him not to follow. But he did, of course,' she trailed off, looking with half pleading eyes at her two friends.

'We should try and find them,' Uryū sighed deeply, wondering why they always tagged along after Kurosaki on one of his missions, 'So let's go,'

'Alright,' as they left the apartment, making sure to lock the door, all of them wondered if they'd even be able to find Ichigo, or if he was already far out of sensing range.

* * *

><p>Ichigo paused to look around him, wondering just where he was going exactly. It seemed like he was heading closer to Tokyo, but he couldn't be sure. Still, it wasn't like he was going to give up. On the contrary, he'd keep trying forever, if need be. So what if Rukia had told him not to: he did things against her wishes all of the time, sometimes for the better, and sometimes not.<p>

She'd written that while she still could, and she'd also clearly arranged for someone from wherever she was now, to pick her up. Otherwise, there was no way she'd have gotten there.

The orange haired substitute shinigami closed his eyes briefly, picturing Rukia using her shunpo to fly through the air beside him. It was such a common, familiar scene, one that had been destroyed at the beginning of the month, when everything for them had turned into smoking ruins. It was never fair, other people always had it better than you did, and the world always seemed to favour what you'd never bring yourself to like. That was just the way things were, and the average person would accept that, and go on with their lives.

_Rukia_, his thoughts took on an annoyed tone, _Why __are __you __always __going __off __places __without __giving __anyone __a __means __of __following __you? __Why __are __you __always __telling __your __friends __to __leave __you __behind __and __forget __about __you? __Why __do __you __always __seem __to __think __you__'__re __a __burden?_

He didn't think he'd be able to give up. He believed it with all of his might. But sometimes there's nothing to do except let the past slide through your fingers, and take strong steps towards the future. Sometimes although it hurts, and you feel you'll never be whole again, you have to respect the wishes of the one you love, and continue to dance to life's steady rhythm.

* * *

><p>'Kurosaki!'<p>

Orihime, Uryū, and Chad all broke into a run when they saw their orange haired friend alight in the middle of the road which led out of Karakura Town and towards Tokyo. It was late afternoon and they'd searched all day, but still, there had been no sign of him at all. Uryū suspected that he had been out of town, and had only just returned now, but not for the first time, he decided to keep that knowledge to himself.

'Where have you been? We've been searching all over town for you!'

Orihime was so worked up that she looked like an emotional wreck. The news about Kuchiki had knocked her off her feet and now she could almost cry with relief that at least Kurosaki was safe. She wanted all of her friends to be together, but she knew that sometimes that was selfish.

'Hey you guys,' Ichigo forced a smile and then he walked over to them, the loose black material of his shihakusho fluttering in the wind, 'Sorry about that, I was just . . . out of town,'

'Kurosaki-,' Uryū cut himself off. He knew there were times for talking, and he also knew that there were times when a person had to come to terms with their loss on their own. This was one of those times and, although he knew Ichigo would never give Rukia up, he hoped his friend wouldn't beat himself up too much over what had happened.

'About Rukia,' Ichigo's smile took on a bit more of a _real _appearance, 'She's alright now. She's somewhere where they can care for her properly. It's all alright now,' he closed his eyes briefly, 'And she said to thank you, all of you, for everything that you've done for her,'

'Ku-Kuchiki,' Orihime did cry then, but the tears that fell from her eyes were ones that showed just how touched she was, 'No, no, we should be thanking you! Without you, none of us would ever have gained the powers we have now. We mightn't even have become friends,' she tried to wipe her tears away but fresh ones spilled down her cheeks, 'We've had so many adventures together. When we went to rescue you, when you came to rescue me,' she sobbed harder, 'Thank you R-Rukia, you're a really kind friend. I-,' unable to hold herself up anymore, the woman dropped to kneel on the footpath, both hands rising to cover her tear stained face, 'I'm so glad to have met you,'

Everyone watched as Orihime kept crying and then they all started in shock when she began to laugh through her tears. It seemed so strange, that she could be so happy, but then they all realised that this cheerfulness was what Rukia had wanted. She'd asked them to keep moving forwards, and, although she was drenched with her own tears, Orihime was showing them that they could be strong and do that. Each one of the wet droplets showed the young woman's resolve to make her friend happy.

'Inoue,' Ichigo blinked down at her, slightly worried that she'd gone mad, 'Are you alright?'

Leaping up in a movement which sent her ginger hair fanning out behind her, Orihime smiled cheerfully, finally able to wipe all of her tears away, 'I'm better than alright! I want to eat! I want to go to a bakery!' turning in the opposite direction to the nearest bakery, the young woman began to march off, singing loudly.

A few minutes later, after Chad had gone after her and turned her in the right direction, all four of them were walking back into Karakura Town. Uryū was wondering if he should go to a handicrafts shop to get the necessary items he'd need to make the prototypes for his latest collection, Chad was thinking that he should start practising his guitar more, so that then he could play for more people and make them smile, just like Rukia had, and Orihime was just thinking that they were so lucky to have their futures still ahead of them.

Walking beside his friends, Ichigo didn't feel as lost as he had when he was alone, and he was smiling. He'd come to terms with the fact that, at least for now, he was better making sure the three people around him were safe and happy, just like Rukia would've wanted. No . . . just like Rukia _wanted_.

* * *

><p><em>There is nothing that is eternal,<br>__But what we have now,  
><em>_Still makes us smile and laugh.  
><em>_And although you aren't here,  
><em>_We will never forget you.  
><em>_Because you were the one,  
><em>_Who changed,  
><em>_Our worlds forever._

_So don't worry anymore,  
><em>_We'll keep going on,  
><em>_Keep fighting through the troubles,  
><em>_To live like you wished.  
><em>_And we all know that,  
><em>_Happiness is a delicate thing,  
><em>_Just like you it is,  
><em>

_As fragile as the wings of a butterfly._


	7. Epilogue: Wings of a Butterfly

_Epilogue: Fragile as the Wings of a Butterfly_

'Kurosaki!' Inoue was almost screaming her voice was so loud, and she thundered up and down the steps louder than anyone could possibly manage apart from her, 'Kurosaki!'

'Inoue?' Ichigo peered out the doorway, wondering why his long-time friend was waving her arms about so madly. From inside his apartment, he could hear Uryū talking on the phone about some sort of fashion supply load which was apparently going to arrive on _his _doorstep in a couple of days. Further away, the gentle noises of Chad's guitar resonated through the house as well. Ichigo didn't know why the three of them had converted one of the empty rooms into their own personal apartments. His house had been taken over by his friends. Rukia's study was Inoue's bedroom, the spare room was Uryū's, and Chad had taken the store room. The only places where there wasn't something of someone else's things lying around, was _his _bedroom, and _his _study. Although somehow Uryū still managed to leave some ordering form on his desk occasionally.

It had been about three months since Rukia had left to go wherever she'd gone, and none of his friends had gone back home. Oh no, instead of leaving him to get over everything by himself, they were dragging him to amusement parks one second, and fashion shows the next, not to mention that Mexican music performance.

Ichigo guessed that they were trying to make him feel better, but in reality, he just kept feeling more and more exhausted every day. And when he lay on his bed at night, those were the times when the guilt and anguish would return.

'Kurosaki!' Orihime was screaming now, a piercing shriek that sent the birds flying from the trees, 'Ku-ro-sa-ki!'

'What is it?' getting rather worried, Ichigo ran down the stairs to peer at his friend carefully, 'Inoue? Are you okay?'

The auburn haired woman nodded and shoved the letter in her hand into his face, almost poking his eye out with one of the corners, 'Look, Kurosaki, look at this,'

Ichigo stepped back and looked at the envelope in his hands. It was larger than average and thick too. He wondered who would've sent him such an official looking letter. Hesitating a little, he prised open the seal and slid the contents out.

There was a letter and a small square of paper with a line drawn on in black. Turning the square around in an attempt to work out what it was he was looking at, Ichigo realised that the way the artist had drawn it was so familiar. His brown eyes widened and, flipping over the card, he read in an unfamiliar hand: _Kuchiki __Rukia_.

'What? What is this?' shaking slightly, Ichigo looked at the wobbly line again, and it was only after a few more minutes that he realised it was an outline of four silhouettes. They were easily identifiable now: spiky haired Ichigo, tall and muscular Chad, thin and spectacled Uryū, Orihime with her long hair . . . they were only outlines, but they were so easy to recognise. And they were done by Rukia.

Looking at the still folded letter, Ichigo had the terrible thought that she might have passed away. And not onto the Soul Society, like a human would, because she was already a spirit. Opening the paper, he read the short note quickly, eyes almost moving faster along the lines of characters than his brain would comprehend.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_Kuchiki Rukia, admitted to our caring centre three months prior to the current day, has requested that notification be sent to the address which she supplied upon applying for help.  
><em>_This letter is to inform you that Kuchiki Rukia is well, although her memory has almost completely faded, and that she is happy._

_Carer of Kuchiki Rukia_

Ichigo was reeling in shock. He couldn't believe this. What was going on? After three months, Rukia finally decided to let them know how she was going. But at this stage, surely she wouldn't even have remembered who they were.

'What is it?' although she'd been excited, just because of her gut instinct, Orihime was now worried, since Ichigo had gone very quiet.

'It's a letter,' the orange haired man heard Uryū and Chad begin descending the stairs, 'From Rukia,'

'What?' they all made the same exclamation, and Orihime had to fight herself not to snatch the paper from her friend's grasp, 'Is this for real?' somehow, they sounded just like children again.

'It is,' Ichigo looked like he was in another world, so spaced out and shocked. He wasn't sure what this meant. Rukia hadn't asked them to come and visit, but she hadn't told them to stay away either. It was a confusing situation that he couldn't wrap his mind around. Any other day before the current one, receiving something like this would have had him rushing to wherever she was in a matter of moments. No thinking required, no hesitation . . .

'Ichigo?' Chad finally decided to speak on behalf of everyone else. He was concerned for his old friend, and he could only guess at the ferocity of the emotional turmoil Ichigo was experiencing.

'Yeah?' coming back to earth, just a little, the half frozen man shakily turned away to go back up the stairs, 'What?'

Uryū, still a few stairs up from the Ichigo, placed a hand on the other man's shoulder, 'Kurosaki, aren't you going to do anything about this?' he didn't wait for a reply before continuing, 'The Kurosaki Ichigo I know wouldn't give up and ignore such an opportunity. What's happened to you? Are you going to wallow in self-pity and badly disguised depression for the rest of your life? Can't you make any decisions without Kuchiki standing beside you and shouting in your face? Is it only her that you care about? So much that you'll let us all watch you slowly killing yourself? Kurosaki!'

'Ishida-,' Ichigo stared in surprise, unsure of how to react to the usually composed man's sudden outburst. He could sense his other two friends staring, and he could feel Uryū's nails digging into his shoulder. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to react, what he was supposed to do in such a situation. How was he supposed to apologise? He hadn't even realised it was so hard for them, hadn't even known how much they'd known.

'Let's all go,' Orihime smiled suddenly, breaking the tense silence, 'Come on, we can leave right away! Kurosaki, you have a car, right?'

Ichigo found a doubtful voice speaking in his head, almost drowning out the newborn hope, 'We don't even know where she is-,'

'Sometimes I'm still astonished at how thick you are,' Uryū's withering look was intense, and then the bespectacled man plucked the envelope from Ichigo's hands, 'Right here,' and he tapped on the paper, pointing out the address.

'Oh,' Ichigo had no more excuses, although he still wasn't sure why he'd even tried to make up any in the first place, 'I guess that means we're off then,'

* * *

><p>'Hurry, Inoue!' Ichigo had clearly gotten over his hesitation as now, walking towards the doors of the clean looking centre, he couldn't have moved any faster without breaking into a run, 'Why are you still on your phone?'<p>

'Sorry!' trying to text while she quickened her pace to a trot, the auburn haired woman smiled cheerfully, 'I'm coming!'

'Hello! Who are you?' a woman called out from the desk as the four young people burst into the entrance room, 'Can I help you with something?'

'Er,' suddenly feeling very awkward, Ichigo found he was at a loss for words. The drive had taken at least two hours, and the excitement was wearing down to worry. Orihime had been on her phone the whole trip, Uryū had been navigating with unsurprising precision, and Chad had stayed silent.

'We came to visit a Kuchiki Rukia,' Uryū sent Kurosaki a rather venomous glare before smiling at the woman sitting behind her desk, 'Is that possible?'

The lady thought she recognised the man who was speaking, but she couldn't place where. The possibility that he was the one who'd designed what she was wearing and appeared quite frequently in the magazines she read . . . it didn't cross her mind.

'Sure, I'll just check what she's doing right now,' turning to her computer screen, she clicked on a few things before nodding, 'Alright, she's in her room at the moment, it's on Level 2 Room 15, there'll be a map next to the elevators,'

'Thank you,' smiling again, Uryū turned and herded all of his friends towards the elevators. Sometimes, it seemed that they all needed to be bossed about before they'd move an inch. It really was quite tiring.

'Wait!' Orihime cried out suddenly, sliding between Uryū and the elevator buttons, 'W-wait!'

'For what?' everyone was vexed at her sudden change in behaviour, 'Don't you want to see Kuchiki?'

'Of course I do, it's just that-,' she was fretting and glancing about, clearly looking for some way out of the situation she'd just placed herself in, 'Just . . . please wait!'

'For what?' Ichigo was the one to repeat the question, gazing at his friend with an almost bewildered expression. She'd been the one to suggest coming, so what was all this about now?

'For us, I think she means,'

All three of the young men paused their staring at Orihime to turn around. Just in time to watch a crowd of people spill through the doors and into the waiting room. Spiky red hair there, smooth black here, blonde over in the corner . . .

'Renji? Byakuya? Urahara? Everyone?' Ichigo could have continued his list, but he was hardly able to think, let alone process what had just happened, 'What are you lot all doing _here_?'

'We came to see Kuchiki, one last time,' Urahara, being the twisted but brilliant genius that he was, had already somehow calculated that this day, this very day, was the last for Rukia, 'Don't tell me you're gonna kick us all out. Even after Inoue went to such trouble to contact us all,'

'Dad?' ignoring the shopkeeper for the most part, the orange haired man stared as his father and two younger sisters moved through the group, smiling at him cheerfully, 'Is this a dream?'

'That totally ruined the epic mood,' whoever had just spoken sounded very blunt and cynical, very much like a certain Kurosaki Karin, 'And here we all were walking in here looking oh so fine and impressive,'

'K-karin,' Ichigo tried not to rush over and hug the black haired young woman. Turning abruptly, he gently moved Orihime out of the way, and then he pressed the 'up' button. There really was no going back now, especially because there was a considerable amount of people between him and the door, and so he had to do this. Still, he could only hope Rukia's room was large, or else they'd never be able to fit, 'Oh dear. Inoue, why did you get this lot to come too?'

* * *

><p>Rukia sat on her chair, staring out the window at the cloudy sky. She wondered if it was going to rain, and the thought was a sad one, although she couldn't think why. She wondered what day it was, and where she was. The person who came in to ask her things, she couldn't think of who that might be either. She could feel that something was very wrong, something was missing, something really, truly important. It was hurting somewhere <em>there<em>, she raised a hand and touched her chest, unsure of where 'there' really was. But she couldn't think of what would've happened to make that pain. All she knew was that she was satisfied, something she'd done or said had caused a calm to pass over her fading mind.

Rukia could tell this was her last day, and there was nowhere else for her to go, no new place to travel to. It really would be the end, but of what she couldn't tell. She knew she was losing her thoughts, and she almost knew that that was different.

'Ah,' the faint sound, more of an exhalation that anything else, slid over her pale lips. Words no longer pass from her mouth, simple gestures are all she can use to convey her messages, but somehow she manages, and somehow they understand.

'SHHHHH!' 'Just shut up!' 'Come on!' 'Get lost!' 'I said be quiet!' 'You're the one being loud!' 'Shut it, all of you,'

There was something different about that tidal wave of noise crashing down the corridor to her room. She couldn't pick what it was, didn't even think to go look, but the apathy lessened, just a fraction.

'Crap, the door won't open!' 'Give the key here!' 'No!' 'Just hand over the bloody key,' 'I'm warning you,' 'I said no!' 'Get out of the way!' 'You go away!' 'This is ridiculous!' 'You lot-,'

Rukia slid off her chair, moving unsteadily over to the larger windows at the far end of the white furnished room. She wasn't concerned by the noise, no thoughts of fear or amusement touched her blank mind. The skies looked cloudy and she wondered if they'd release that liquid soon. It would be sad, although why, she couldn't say.

'Got it!' 'No you don't!' 'Move it!' 'Ouch!' 'Stop moving!' 'That hurt!' 'Don't be idiotic!' 'He can't help it!'

The door slammed open suddenly, hitting the wall with such force that paint flew from the surface. People were pouring in through the narrow opening, tripping and tumbling over each other, quite a few falling into undignified heaps on the ground.

_Staring from the window into a dark and cloudy sky, broken wings spread behind her, fine and gossamer black . . ._

Everyone who'd just rather abruptly invaded Rukia's room stood back and stared at the thin figure leaning on the windowsill and peering up at the sky. She seemed so beautiful and tragic, like a model, and not someone who was dying. Her skin was so pale, her eyes so dark and misty, filled with violet wonders . . . her posture straight, her hand, pressed against the glass, delicate to perfection . . . oh how they'd all missed her.

_But her eternity is coming to an end, her wings are disintegrating, her soul is fading . . ._

'Rukia,' after being glared at by at least seven different people, Ichigo gathered himself together and spoke, quietly but clearly, 'Rukia?'

And she turned, eyes unfocused and slightly confused, no recognition sparking in the indigo depths, 'Ung,'

There was a dead silent pause, when almost everyone assembled had to avert their eyes for just a minute, and then Ichigo spoke again, 'Hey Rukia, do you remember us?'

There was a chance that she might just recall . . . with all the people she knew there . . . it had happened before . . .

The petite woman turned her head, eyes passing over each and every face, going back the other way, coming to a rest on the orange haired man in the centre of the group. She was silent, just watching as hope, fear, worry, anguish, excitement, happiness, relief . . . all the emotions that swirled around in the air that surrounded him, suspended on tiny wings.

'I-ichigo,'

Eyes widened. Gazes sharpened. Heads turned. Bodies shifted. No one blinked. All was silent.

'Ichigo,' Rukia could see no one else. The presences of the others might have helped her remember, but now the only thing her attention was focused on was Kurosaki Ichigo as he stood frozen, staring at her in disbelief.

'R-rukia?' although his voice cracked halfway through her name, he didn't care in the slightest, 'Do you . . . do you remember?'

She was crying, unable to remember that she thought such things weak, and smiling. That pretty smile which graced her face only at the best and most poignant moments of her life. A light laugh bubbled up her throat and then she slid from her chair, steadier than she'd been in months. Bare feet hardly making contact with the ground, let alone any sound, the petite woman ran over to Ichigo, arms curling around his waist, head resting against his chest.

Ichigo could hear the others murmuring to themselves as they filed as quietly as possible from the room. They didn't know how long she'd remember, how long it would be before she lost that last connection to the world and faded away forever.

'Hey you,' bending down, he peered into her eyes carefully, 'How've you been?'

She didn't reply, but her arms tightened and a happy sigh escaped her. Ichigo placed a hand on her head, lightly ruffling her hair, noting that the midnight black reached halfway down her back now. Those months of feeling nothing, they were gone now. He wanted to hold her like this forever, content just being near her, inhaling the faint smell of soap which came from her skin, and hearing her heartbeat.

'I've missed you,' he touched her cheek lightly and she turned her face into his palm, almost like a kitten, 'Oh,' a smile was tugging at his scowl, urging it to get off his face, 'One more thing,'

Rukia paused her happy mumbling to look up at him, almost questioning with her gaze alone. This was the last day she had, the last hours until she left life forever, but she wasn't sad or empty anymore. There was a familiar feeling in her chest, something so strong and powerful she thought she might burst. She wanted this man's gentle hands and his reluctant smile, this person made her life easy to bear. There was a connection between them, just an unspoken bond that hadn't been broken, even after everything they'd been through. She remembered suddenly the number of times she'd told this person that she loved him, and how he'd get a sweet look in his eyes. And, although the memory was gone in a second, the feeling of contentment remained.

She'd waited this long, so now that she'd seen him again, she could say farewell to living with no regrets. She was happy, content, peaceful . . . nothing could make this any more beautiful.

Ichigo leaned forwards and whispered in her air, very quietly, just a breath of wind carrying half hidden words, 'I love you,'

Rukia released him and stepped back, the tears caught in her lashes like crystals, and she smiled beautifully, head slightly tilted to one side and eyes half closed. She didn't make a sound, and then she turned, taking her small, delicate steps away from the orange haired man.

Ichigo watched, and his brown eyes widened as sapphire blue laced black wings burst from Rukia's back, fluttering ever so slightly in the faint breeze coming from nowhere. Her plain clothes faded away and then she was wearing a pure, snow white dress. The loose, summery type that flows around you as you dance through fields of green.

'Goodbye, Rukia,' he knew that this was the final part of her story, and what a tragically breathtaking sight she was. A new butterfly just about to fly away into the blue on shadowy silk-lace wings . . .

* * *

><p>And so when Orihime, Uryū and Chad re-entered Kuchiki's room after giving everyone else strict instructions not to come in after them, they found Ichigo asleep on the lounge, tears running down his cheeks, and a smile on his lips. Rukia was nowhere to be seen, and, except for the fine black paper that the sleeping man held to his chest, there was no sign that she'd ever even been there. Because that paper was a black winged butterfly, faintly edged in blue, and folded carefully in the most intricate and beautiful way possible.<p>

_Wings of a butterfly . . . fragile way to freedom_


End file.
